


Summer Prompt Challenge

by Dragonflies_and_Katydids



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Casual Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Homecoming, M/M, Masochism, Multi, Pegging, Threesome, Tongue Piercings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-02 23:43:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16797058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonflies_and_Katydids/pseuds/Dragonflies_and_Katydids
Summary: Various short smutty Tumblr prompts from July (oops). Pairings and prompt will be noted in the chapter titles.





	1. Bull/Cullen: punishment or torture

The templars taught him to make his pain into an offering to the Maker. Pain alone meant nothing, but he could make it more if he chose. It could be a prayer, one with more weight than a hundred hours spent reciting the Chant. Blood magic was an abomination; blood sacrifice was something else entirely.

When he left the Chantry behind, that sacrifice turned hollow. The Maker wasn't listening--had never listened--and while there was no shortage of pain, it didn't sing through him the way it did before. It was meaningless, just a sign of weakness and failure. It was no longer a worthy offering. It was nothing anyone would want.

Until the Iron Bull.

Cullen's pain is made holy once again, and unlike the Maker, the Iron Bull is always there to accept the offering. Cullen bleeds, but he bleeds for someone else, someone who treats every drop as a precious gift. The Iron Bull's steady, quiet voice counts off the blows as the pain spreads and blood seeps from the places where the whip broke the skin, so that every blow is underscored with a reminder: "I am here."

Every ten blows, the Iron Bull pauses. Steps forward. Touches the marks on Cullen's skin, drawing his fingers through the blood, and waits without speaking for five slow breaths. At the end of that last breath, if Cullen says nothing, the Iron Bull steps back and begins again.

There are no chains or rope, and the Iron Bull wouldn't stop him if he tried to leave; Cullen's will is the only thing holding him here. A forced offering is no kind of offering at all, and Cullen wants more than anything to offer up his pain as a sacrifice to the Iron Bull. It's euphoric, lifting him higher than a hand or a mouth on his cock ever could.

When the Iron Bull does fuck him, it's usually face-to-face, Cullen straddling his thighs as the Iron Bull sits on the edge of the bed. This is as much a part of it as the beating, Cullen forcing his body to move despite the pain, to fuck himself on the Iron Bull's cock as the Iron Bull's hands stroke roughly over the broken skin of his back without trying to control his movements. If Cullen wanted to end this, all he would have to do is get up. Every moment of pain is his choice, and so every moment is also his offering.

The Iron Bull comes with a groan, his fingers digging into Cullen's back. It makes the pain spike, and the euphoria lifts him up so high that for a little while, there's nothing in the world except the Iron Bull and pain so sharp he wants it to never end.

Even after the world slides back into focus, the pain leaves Cullen limp and sleepy. He fights to stay awake, accepting the cup of water Bull offers him and sipping it slowly while the marks on his back are cleaned. That stings a little, but it's a different kind of pain, not the kind he can make into a sacrifice. All he can do is wait it out.

Patiently, though. If he offers his pain to Bull, then this is Bull's offering to him. The least Cullen can do is accept it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [on tumblr](https://d-and-k-nsfw.tumblr.com/post/180672779343/bullcullen-prompt-fill)


	2. Hawke/Fenris/Isabela: tongue piercing

"You," Hawke says sternly to Isabela, "are the _worst_."

Unrepentant, Isabela grins from beneath the edge of the blindfold where she's lifted it up to peek. "Am not."

"Are so."

"Am n-"

Hawke kisses her to shut her up, tugging the blindfold back into place at the same time. When Isabela's tongue slips out to trace Hawke's lower lip, Hawke lets her in, enjoying the first real kiss they've shared since Isabela got back. A welcome-home kiss at the airport doesn't count, not after two months apart.

Isabela purrs and leans in closer, fingers already tugging at the button on Hawke's jeans, and Hawke steps away, laughing. "The _worst_."

"I am," Isabela says. She tries to reach back and grope Fenris, but he's too quick, stepping neatly backward to avoid her hand. "But you love me for it."

"Fenris does," Hawke allows.

Isabela shrieks in mock-anger and lunges forward. Even blindfolded, her reflexes are good, and she manages to grab Hawke and tumble both of them onto the bed without any elbows landing in unfortunate places.

It's still not a fair fight, not with Hawke and Fenris united against her, and they need all of five seconds to pin her arms and legs to the mattress. "If you're not going to behave," Hawke says, "then we'll just have to do something to make sure you don't spoil the surprise."

"Oh no!" Isabela cries, the least convincing protest Hawke's heard from anyone ever. "Please, I'll be good!"

She's so ridiculous that Hawke laughs. "Sure you will. If we make you."

"Oooo, I do like it when you make me." She squirms around, her skirt riding up in a totally non-accidental accident.

Fenris is quick to help, pushing her onto her back while his other hand slides up her legs to shove her skirt up to her waist. It's a cute skirt, something white and lacy that complements her long, muscular legs, but Hawke ignores it in favor of admiring what's under it. The pale silk-and-lace thong is almost demure, by Isabela's standards, and it's somehow sexier than if she'd been wearing nothing at all.

Isabela, of course, chooses that moment to make another escape attempt, trying to take advantage of Hawke's distraction while Fenris's hands are busy. Swearing and laughing at the same time, Hawke loops one leg over both of Isabela's, pinning her down until Fenris can grab the ropes they laid out earlier, before they left to get Isabela from the airport.

"There," Hawke says, a little breathless, when Isabela is tied securely. She's still fully dressed--if having her skirt up around her waist counts--but that's okay. Both Hawke and Fenris can work around that.

"There?" Isabela asks. She's a little breathless, too, and trying to hide it behind a seductive smile, aimed in the direction of Hawke's voice. "What horrible plans do you have for me now?"

"We're going to play a game," Hawke says.

Isabela takes her cue beautifully. "What kind of a game?"

Hawke glances at Fenris, checking for any sign he wants to back out, but he gives a nod and one of his lopsided smiles. Hawke smiles back at him and says to Isabela, "A guessing game."

"What am I guessing?" Her voice wavers slightly at the end as Hawke trails a finger up her thigh and over the silk, deliberately staying low on her stomach instead of dipping between her legs. "Am I guessing what you're going to do next?"

"Nope," Hawke says. "You're guessing whether that was me or Fenris."

Isabela laughs, delighted. "Too easy, Hawke. That was you."

"I thought I'd start you off with a freebie."

On the other side of the bed, Fenris pauses with one knee on the mattress. When Hawke looks at him, he's studying the two of them in bemused wonder, like he's still not quite sure how he ended up here. But at least it's no longer wary confusion, the expression that said louder than words that he was waiting for them to kick him out of their bed and their lives. _Just a matter of time,_ that expression had said.

Hawke hated it. Still hates it, even if it's been years since there was more than the occasional hint of it. Wonder and amazement? Those are fine, and besides, Isabela deserves to have two someones look at her like that.

So Hawke smiles at Fenris and asks innocently, "Are you coming?"

He snorts. "Not if you're going to keep making bad puns." But he's already a liar, because he's crawling across the bed to kneel beside Isabela.

Hawke grins at him, brushing gentle fingers over Isabela again. Lower this time, grazing the silk right over her clit. "Which of us was that?"

"Still you." Isabela waggles her eyebrows behind her blindfold. "You're going to have to make it harder."

Fenris groans in exaggerated disgust at the pun. "I'm leaving now."

"No you're not," Isabela says, unconcerned.

"No he's not," Hawke agrees. A fingernail this time, dragging over the inside of Isabela's thigh. "And that?"

"Still you."

"Are you sure?"

Isabela's eyebrows draw down, half hidden by the blindfold, and Hawke can practically feel the mock glare. "Nice try, but I'm not that easy to fool."

Hawke exchanges a quick grin with Fenris and asks in a sing-song voice, "Are you suuure?"

"Yes, I'm suuure," Isabela says, imitating Hawke's tone.

"Then I'll just have to take your advice and try harder."

###

It's as much fun as Hawke thought it would be, and Isabela plays along beautifully, laughing and gasping as Hawke and Fenris try to fool her. They lean over each other so she can't guess based on which direction the touch comes from, and climb off the bed several times to change sides. Or pretend to change sides.

When they have her stripped naked at last, Fenris kneels between her spread legs, careful not to touch her. From higher up the bed, stretched out beside Isabela without letting any part of their bodies touch, Hawke watches him in tense anticipation.

Fenris glances up Isabela's body to catch Hawke's eyes. His pupils are wide and dark, every bit as eager, and Hawke almost tells him to hurry up, even though hurrying isn't the point of the game. Hurrying isn't what's spread wetness across the tops of Isabela's thighs.

Still careful not to let his arms brush against Isabela, Fenris leans down and presses his mouth to her cunt. Lips already parted, his tongue slips out to tease her. Just the tip at first, then a broad swipe that very deliberately rubs his tongue stud over her clit.

Isabela arches against the ropes and gasps out, "Hawke!"

Grinning, Hawke leans down to whisper in her ear, "Guess again."

It takes Isabela a second to make the connection, then her voice cracks in surprise as she says, "Fenris?"

In response, he sucks her clit into his mouth, and Hawke can tell from the way Isabela's hips buck that he's doing something interesting with the tongue stud. Well, from watching Isabela move, and from personal experience. He's been practicing for the last month, ever since the piercing healed enough that he could. Isabela's been gone a while, and they've been planning this surprise for almost as long.

"What-" Isabela gasps. "You...Fenris!" Her voice breaks again, going so high his name is almost unintelligible. "You got your-...ah!"

"He's really good with his 'ah', isn't he?" Hawke murmurs in Isabela's ear. "He's been practicing."

Isabela makes a sound that's half laugh and half groan, her hips rocking up against Fenris's mouth. Abandoning the game now that the big surprise is out, Hawke slips the blindfold off and smiles down into Isabela's dazed eyes, just as Fenris does something to make her whimper. "You like your welcome home present?"

"Fuck yes," Isabela gasps. She strains against the ropes, trying for a kiss, and Hawke is happy to give her as many as she wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompter challenged me to make Fenris the one with the tongue piercing. :) So of course I had to do it.
> 
> [on tumblr](https://d-and-k-nsfw.tumblr.com/post/180731859658/prompt-173-pierced-tongue-pairing)


	3. Isabela/Zevran: no strings attached

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denerim is boring, at least until Zevran shows up.
> 
> Tags: casual sex, friends with benefits, pegging

As far as Isabela is concerned, Denerim is boring until Zevran shows up, but then, so many places are more interesting once Zevran is around.

He's keeping company with a pair of Grey Wardens now, which is surprising. Even more surprising, his eyes follow one of them whenever he thinks no one is looking, his expression somewhere between wistful and resigned while the oblivious target of those looks remains, well, _oblivious_.

"You could say something," Isabela murmurs to him, the third time she catches him doing it.

"I could," Zevran allows, "but I think, on balance, that I prefer silence."

"Mm, yes," she says, "you definitely look happy."

"I see no point in offering my affections where they are not wanted."

There are a lot of things she could say to that. _How do you know if you haven't asked?_ is the first that comes to mind, followed closely by, _Since when do you pine after anyone?_ Admittedly, it's been a few years since she last saw him, but those carefully guarded looks are something she never thought to see from Zevran of all people.

Still, it's clear he doesn't want to talk about it, and respect for those deliberate silences has always been central to their friendship. He's never asked her for more details about Luis than she was willing to give freely, so the least she can do is move the conversation along.

She smiles at him, slow and wicked. "I know someplace your affections _are_ wanted."

"Do you?" he asks with a smile of his own. "And do you, by chance, have a map to this fascinating place?"

"I do," she says, leaning across the table toward him, "but unfortunately, it's back on the _Siren_."

He mirrors her, and the table is narrow enough that it puts them almost nose to nose. "As it happens, I find my evening is entirely my own. Perhaps I might escort you back to your ship, to see this wondrous map of yours."

"Oh, it's quite wondrous." She leans forward to kiss him lightly. "Just wait and see."

"My heart beats faster at the mere thought." Rising to his feet, he offers her his hand with a gallant bow. "Please, dear lady, lead the way."

Despite the words, he loops his arm through hers as he waves a lazy farewell to the Grey Wardens and keeps her close to his side rather than allowing her to lead as they make their way through the common room. At the door, curiosity has Isabela glancing back for one last look at Zevran's Grey Warden.

Who's gnawing on one lip and watching them with a frown. It could be simple concern over Zevran going off alone with someone these Grey Wardens barely know, but somehow, Isabela doesn't think that's the problem. Especially since those worried eyes dart away, down toward the table, as soon as they meet Isabela's.

Isabela makes a note of that for later, then lets Zevran draw her out of the tavern.

###

His mouth is on hers the instant they reach her cabin on the _Siren's Call_ , and she laughs into the kiss as she closes the door by shoving him up against it. His hands are everywhere: in her hair and on her laces and under her tunic, deft fingers stripping both of them. They’re naked on the bed in less time than it normally takes her to undress herself.

Those fingers are just as deft when they’re fucking her, curling inside her while Zevran's tongue explores her cunt, relearning what she likes. He's every bit as good as she remembered--which makes him almost as good as he thinks he is--and in no time at all, she's gasping and twisting under him. The wet sounds of his fingers fucking her and his mouth tormenting her are broken by his occasional groans, almost silent even as they vibrate through her.

He slips a third finger into her, and she grabs for his hair, pulling hard, the way he likes, and the last thing she sees before her head falls back is his ass clenching and his hips rocking to rub his cock against the sheets. Then she's coming, her body squeezed tight, caught between grinding her cunt up against his mouth or down onto his fingers, only she doesn't have enough control over her body to do either. Thank the Maker he does both for her, letting her grip on his hair hold him so close he probably can't breathe, while he pushes his fingers in even deeper, until at last she collapses back to the bed.

He gives her a moment to catch her breath, then his mouth is on her again, his face buried between her legs as he works a fourth finger inside her. He's in no hurry, twisting his hand back and forth as he pushes in, stretching her cunt until at last his knuckles squeeze through. When she comes for the second time, she's intensely aware of his hand inside her, of her cunt clenching around his wrist while his tongue drags wave after wave of pleasure out of her.

When her eyes can focus again, he has his chin propped on her hip and a smug grin on his face, which is still wet and slick. It gives her an idea, one he's happy to go along with, and she comes the third time sitting astride his face with his hands on her hips encouraging her to take whatever she wants from him. Encouraging her to be greedy and selfish, just for a little while.

They rest for a bit after that: wash up, drink a shared glass of wine, and flirt as if they're not already naked together. That's always been the way of their relationship, neither of them interested in being tied down by anything deeper.

Glass of wine halfway to her mouth, Isabela pauses and remembers Zevran's wistful look at a certain Grey Warden. Maybe Zevran has changed his mind about being tied down, at least in the metaphorical sense. And if that look Isabela caught on their way out of the Pearl is anything to go by, his case isn't as hopeless as he seems to think it is.

Before she can decide whether Zevran wanting any kind of commitment means he's crazy, he steals the glass from her and drains it. At her outraged noise of protest, he grins. "I was merely curious what thoughts could be so interesting as to distract you from my charming self."

She grins back, sly. "Oh, don't worry. I was definitely thinking about your charming self."

"Tell me more," he says, setting the wineglass on the table.

She has to think fast, but fortunately, she's always been good at that, and Zevran is amenable to nearly anything. He's more than willing to brace himself against the edge of the bed, ass up and face down, and hold on while she fucks him with a thick wooden cock. The leather harness holds it in exactly the right place, and she rubs her cunt against it with lazy rolls of her hips until she's come one last time.

As soon as the stars have stopped flashing in front of her eyes, she slips free of the harness to half sit, half lean against him. One hand on Zevran's cock and one hand on the wooden one, she fucks him while he fucks her fist, her strokes as fast as she can make them when her body wants nothing more than sleep. She remembers what he likes just as well as he remembers what she likes, and getting fucked into the mattress is definitely high on his list. He groans and curses into her pillows, making her smile despite her sleepiness, and she doesn't let herself stop until he shudders and spills over her hand.

Cleanup is quicker this time, and Zevran doesn't return to bed when he's done. Half asleep, Isabela lies sprawled on the bed while he gets dressed, his tattoos and knives disappearing one by one under layers of cloth and leather. Watching him get undressed is nicer, but not for any lack of grace on his part.

When he's ready to go, he pauses by the bed long enough to drop a quick kiss on her cheek. "Sleep well, oh pirate queen," he says as he starts to straighten.

She smiles and drags him back down by his hair for a longer, filthier kiss. Depending on his Grey Warden, it might be the last time she gets to kiss him like that. It would be a shame if their last kiss was something so chaste.

He's flatteringly breathless by the time she lets go of him, but he doesn't let that interfere with what she recognizes as his most seductive tone. "Or shall I stay and wait upon your whim?"

"My whims are satisfied," she says, still smiling. "Go back to your Warden."

The pause that follows is just a bit too long. "Warden _s_ , you mean."

"No," she says with a yawn that's only half-feigned. "Your Warden. Just the one."

"Hardly mine," Zevran says. His casual tone is even more of a lie than her yawn.

"You're an idiot," Isabela informs him. "And so's your Warden. The two of you should talk about that."

Zevran leans down to kiss her cheek again, very gently. "I shall give your words of wisdom due consideration."

"Good," Isabela says. She puts a hand on his hip to shove him--gently--toward the door. "Now go away so I can sleep."

His laugh lingers after he's left, and Isabela falls asleep smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [on tumblr](https://d-and-k-nsfw.tumblr.com/post/181156130798/119-no-strings-attached-pairing-zevran)


End file.
